


Exemplary

by karlieox



Category: Hunger Games (2012), Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Adventure, Alternate Universe - Future, Angst and Tragedy, F/M, Gen, Romance, Teen Romance, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-08
Updated: 2013-12-08
Packaged: 2018-01-04 02:27:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1075448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/karlieox/pseuds/karlieox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Challenging the government and everything she's been raised for was never an intention of, soon to be seventeen, Chriselda Snow. Being the great great granddaughter of the once powerful Coriolanus Snow, nothing less is expected of her other than to be an exemplary Capitol citizen. The day of the 115th Hunger Games chariot run will change her fate and view of everything that she once accepted - and it all started with the brown eyes of the boy from district thirteen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Privilege

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading. <3  
> Please leave a comment or private comment about what you thought - it'd mean the world to me. In advance, I apologize for all mistakes that you come over, whether it be spelling, grammar, or just holes in my story. Finding all three of those things bugs me to no end, and it's even more frustrating knowing that I've missed some, so please, tell me if you notice something amiss and I'll do all I can to fix it. (:

The air was polluted with the sweet, heavy fragrances that flowed from the skins of the Capitol's people as their laughs, obnoxious voices and hushed gossips filled the air. The sound of spoons and forks clanking onto porcelain plates chimed in with the upbeat music that hummed in the background, adding to the already elated moods of the Capitol's citizens.   
  
My index finger and thumb twisted around each other causing my fork to wind up the cooling pasta that sat before me on the elaborate dinner table that my family, 'friends' and of course myself sat at. It was  _beautifully_ decorated with a vibrant pink table runner and large, lab grown hibiscus flowers that blocked my view of the person that sat across from me. It's utensils were also a vibrant, loud color - electric yellow silverware and lime green plates. It truly was  _beautiful,_  in every sarcastic sense of the word. I pulled the fork up, watching the steam from the folds of the white pasta escape before slowly and carefully lowering my hand back down, the pasta curling onto itself before I repeated the motion.   
  
It was the day of the reaping for the 115th Hunger Games in all thirteen districts. The first twelve districts had already reported who their tributes would be and have already began prepping to send them to the Capitol with their escort to meet their stylist crew and those that would claim their lives just a few days after.   
  
The Graphite and Nuclear district, or district thirteen, was the last that we were now waiting upon. It was to be expected, considering the history of the district. It only began participating in the Hunger Games during the eightieth year of it's existence, after seventy-nine years of rebellion and a failed Panem wide revolution.   
  
Admittedly, we don't learn much about it in school other than the revolution completely failed and that it should prove to be a lesson for all of us, but more importantly the thirteen districts. We learn about the key criminals that originated there and the ones that later joined it's forces. Names like Katniss Everdeen, Peeta Mellark and President Alma Coin have been thrown around along with the words 'traitor' and 'savages.' We have been taught that what er learn in school is more than enough to believe in the necessity of the Capitol. It's also emphasized that any further questioning or curiosity about the revolution and it's participants is strongly looked down upon, and any 'well behaved Capitol children would stay away from any beliefs that faintly resonate those of the Rebellion.'  
  
Maybe it was my curiosity getting the best of me, but I always wondered what type of district thirteenth must be. If it was able to survive seventy years on it's own without any aid from the Capitol or any other district, why on earth would they agree to reunite with the Capitol after a revolution that only lasted a few mere months, which ended to a surrender on the part of the Rebellion.   
  
I physically shrug to my own question as I allow the pasta to fall back onto my plate once again, before raising my grayish eyes up only to lock eyes onto those of my extended family and 'friends'.   
  
"What?" I asked clueless of what has been discussed the last few moments, locking onto a set of vibrant green eyes before shifting to another.  
  
"Chriselda," My mother, who sat directly to my left, reprimanded in an accent that was as fake as the aqua wig that sat on her head. She mouthed a few words to me before nodding over to my great grandmother, who's green eyes have been trained on me ever since this _lovely_  dinner began. "Answer your grandmother's question, sweetheart. How are things going at school?"   
  
I watched my mother's dyed aqua eyebrows raise a few times as I allowed moments to pass before finally looking over to my great grandmother, the only granddaughter of President Coriolanus Snow.   
  
Surprisingly, she and myself were the only two seated at the table who failed to wear an extravagant wig and makeup to match. Her gray braid hung to one side of her cheek, curling at the end into a single, perfect swirl. Her face was littered with light but well hidden winkles that took nothing away from her beauty. Her emerald eyes were once full of luster but now are just lifeless green orbs that examined and judged everything closely and mercilessly.   
  
"It's fine," I finally answer in a voice that barely competes against the music and chatter that surrounds me, "I'm still having problems understanding why I need to know the basics of Calculus, though. I'd much rather learn about something more prevalent, like our history or any of the sciences." This comment brings on a chain of laughter of the people seated at the table. I give off a small smile to those who acknowledge my dry sense of humor, not because I'm appreciative of the compliments, but because they truly believe that I'm kidding.   
  
My grandmother's face remained stoic, not moving a single muscle as she kept her keen but aged eyes locked onto my own. She cleared her throat as she eyed me for a little while longer, her green eyes burning into my gray ones. It was uncomfortable to say the least.   
  
"How old are you now, Chriselda?" A voice called from the other side of the table, who's face was concealed by the large arrangement of flowers that sat before me. I leaned over to the right and locked eyes with one of my mother's long time friends. His name was Harper Starr, or something close to that. People in the Capitol rarely remain with their true identities. With the knowledge I had concerning him, he is the only person that my mother knows from childhood that she's still in touch with. Why she chose him to be her only gateway to the past is beyond me.   
  
"I will be turning seventeen next month if the Capitol deems it sound to do so."  
  
Another round of chuckles grows around the table. "She is so curt." "She must get it from her father." "Oh no, I'm sure that is something she's developed all on her own."   
  
"Oh, almost your age, Michael." Harper chuckled to his son who sat silently on his right. Her identical green eyes locked onto my gray ones before flashing somewhere else and focusing on something that probably wasn't even there.  
  
I managed to keep back the scoff that climbed it way up by throat by shoving a mouthful of now cold pasta before chewing it softly and allowing it to travel down towards my belly. I sat back in my chair, finally tuning into the music that has surrounded me for most of the day before finally zoning out as my mother brought up the accomplishments of my two older brothers, who now have become Peacekeeper officials in district two.   
  
I allow myself to zone out so much that I miss the announcement of who the volunteers from district thirteen were and the excitement of being able to greet and meet with them tomorrow at the chariot rides and after the interview with Cesar - "privileges of the Elite" my mother reminded me as we were leaving the massive dining hall.  
  
I fail to hold back the sigh that escaped my lips, earning another reprimand from my mother. Her scolding words fly passed me though, because all I can seem to concentrate on is how desperately she needs to clear her face of the atrocity she calls make up.


	2. Pity

Sometime, during the late hours of the night I finally reached my bedroom. I was finally away from all the colors, wigs, dyed eyebrows, genetically altered hibiscus flowers and found myself in my carefully planned sanctuary that no one had a say in.   
  
It was mine and no one's views or opinions will ever be able to change a thing about it.   
  
Once I walked in I carefully shut the white metallic door that blocked the rest of the Capitol out, and silently twisted the lock in place ensuring the utmost privacy. I routinely sauntered over to the bathroom door and pushed it open, flicking the light on before walking in and shutting that door behind me as well. I first washed the little makeup that I willed myself into putting on earlier this evening and watched as the neutral brown from my eye shadow mix in with the black of my eyeliner, mingling as it was whisked down the drain into oblivion. I reached over for the pastel pink face towel that hung beside the sink's mirror and brought it to my face, allowing it to soak the liquid used to cleanse my face.   
  
Over the folded edge of the towel, my eyes caught onto their reflection in the mirror that hung effortlessly before me. Lowering the towel, I took in every feature of my face. My rosy, pink lips, my naturally occurring flushed cheeks, my gray eyes and dark brown hair that set me off instantly from my family.   
  
I would be perfect if I just dyed my hair blond or some other extravagant color and had the surgery that would give me a lively green pigment to my steel gray eyes. Or that's what my mother and our family stylist says.   
  
Every time, however, I refuse. Even if it makes me stand out from my blond hair, green eyed family. Even if it makes me seem boring in the light of the Capitol. There's nothing in this world that would make me change those things about myself, because it's those things that make me...  
  
"Different." I whispered to the reflection of myself in the mirror.   
  
At least in the sense that I haven't allowed the Capitol to change me physically - although I will acknowledge that I've given them a hard time to do so mentally too.   
  
I toss the towel onto the counter of the sink and open the door, flicking the light back off as I walk back into my bedroom.   
  
It was full of light, airy colors. Pastel pinks, oranges and yellows. Nothing was vibrant or had the ability to catch the eye at a glance, but instead everything was designed so that your eyes were at ease and weren't assaulted with every blink you unintentionally took.   
  
I walked over to my dresser, stripping myself bare of the pastel green dress that I had dawned for the day and allowing it to pool at my feet before I stepped out of it and into a more comfortable outfit - a simple white oversize sweater. Pulling my arms through the sleeves, I walked over to my bed and finally plopped into it letting out a long overdue sigh.   
  
Sinking into the pillows, I allow my eyes to slide shut as tried to follow the murky water of my makeup into oblivion.  
  


\-----

  
A few hours have passed and I finally accept that oblivion does not welcome my presence. The past twenty or so minutes have been spent by me rolling from side to side, trying every angle to find my perfect sleeping position. All of which was to no avail.   
  
Finally, letting out a frustrated grunt, I swung my legs over the edge of my pillow topped bed and planted my feet onto the cool, wooden floors beneath. I walked over to my dresser and pulled out a pair of shorts and slipped them on before unlocking my bedroom door and leaving my sanctuary.  
  
I walked down the short hallway of my family's large apartment home, which sat just a few yards off the President's Mansion. "Privileges of the Elite," as my mother would say. In moments, I found myself in the large, extravagant and colorful living room of the apartment. The bright sea foam couch meshed  _perfectly_ with the electric purple rug, which only  _accentuated_  the pink curtains that hung before the range of windows that provided a view of the Capitol's center.   
  
I walked passed the assortment of colors towards the front door. Slipping on a pair of plain flats, my right hand rose as it reached for the silver brushed door knob but halted once a noise behind me caught my attention. Looking over my shoulder, my steel eyes caught onto the brown one of our Avox, Aileta. My hand fell back to my side as I turned to face her completely, a pitied smile forming on my face.   
  
In her fair hands she held one of my coats. Stretching her hands out she offered it to me. I took it without objection and replied with a quiet thank you as I quickly slipped it on. She gestured towards the door as her way of asking me if she should accompany me to wherever I was going.   
  
I shook my head lightly, "I won't be long Aileta," I promised, "Just make sure mom doesn't find out that I'm gone, okay?"   
  
After hesitating for just a moment, she flashes a smile back at me with a nod of understanding.   
  
With another smile, I spun back on my heels facing the door and swung it open, quietly walking out into the night with a small wave to Aileta marking my departure.   
  
The locking of the deadbolt traveled to my ears as I hopped down the steps, thankful that it was Aileta who halted my journey and not another member of the family.   
  
With my hands in my pocket, I tuck my head into the collar of the polyester coat that Aileta handed me. Winter was coming, and now I wished I had put more thought into my outfit before escaping into the darkness of the Capitol at night.  
  
With only the sound of my footsteps accompanying me, I continued my journey to no where. I wasn't going anywhere in particular, but for some reason, the Capitol at night was the best place for me to just breathe.   
  
I tilted my head back and took in a deep breath of the crisp, cool air that surrounded me and slowly let it out through my mouth. I kept my head tilted up to the sky, gazing upon the millions and millions of stars that were gazing back at me at that moment.   
  
With something as amazing as the skies above, the Academy teachers still only teach us of Calculus and the vigilante actions that our Previous Presidents (my great great grandfather, great grandmother and soon my father) have made with the well being of the Capitol and it's citizens in mind.   
  
I scoff to myself quietly, free of any possibility of being reprimanded by my mother or carefully examined by my great grandmother.   
  
I paused for a moment and finally brought my gaze back to what was before me. I now found myself standing before the President's greenhouse which sat in the border of the President's residential area and the rest of the Capitol.   
  
Lacking interest, I walked passed it briskly, being sure to shield my face from whatever camera hid itself in my surrounding, although I'm sure whoever's watching has already taken note of a strange girl walking around aimlessly at somewhere near four in the morning.   
  
I continue this aimless walking about until my body begins to scream about how cold it was, and how heavy my eyes were from a lack of sleep. I finally decide to turn back as the sun barely began to hit the horizon, meaning it was around six in the morning.   
  
Pausing for just a moment to take in my surroundings, I finally noticed that I was somewhere in the wildlife area of the Capitol, a new feature that they created in just the passed couple of months. Despite most if not all the living things that inhabited this plot of land being formed in a laboratory, it truly was beautiful. Nothing like the Capitol's definition of beautiful with obnoxious vibrant colors but instead with those of nature - the greens, browns and faint blues.   
  
It was truly beautiful.  
  
I allowed my eyes to slid shut, taking in the chirps and calls of the jabber jays that flew in the air above me.   
  
Finally being accepted into oblivion and forced my eyes open, darting around the peaceful landscape that surrounded me. As I slowly and peacefully scanned the artificial meadow, my eyes easily caught onto those of another human, almost completely hidden by the grasses that grew freely in the contained field. They were a pale brown, lacking complete luster and shine. They captivated mine effortlessly.   
  
My eyes widened slightly, then blinked a few times. They were still there, watching me closely. Still and silent, I stood there waiting to see the eyes disappear or for a small animal to jump out from it's spot and scurry away.   
  
But nothing jumps out.  
  
I take in a deep breath and allow my eyes to shut slowly, and remain that way for just a few moments. Opening them, it's not to my surprise that nothing was there anymore, not a single trace of whatever it was that was gazing back at me - if anything was even there.   
  
I shook my head lightly before finally turning on my heel back towards the way I assumed I came from. Although I find it hard to believe, I tell myself that it was just my imagination playing tricks on me due to my lack of sleep. I keep telling myself that until I believe it.  
  
So I do.  
  
Finally reaching the main roadway and sidewalk, I hurried back home, sure that I would once again be scolded by my mother for not being  _normal._  Luckily however, the only face I meet when walk through the door is that of our now worried Avox. A small smile once again formed on my lips.  
  
"Aileta, have you been up all this time?" I ask her, my drowsiness coming through my voice.  
  
She shyly shook her head as she stepped towards me and took my jacket from off my shoulders. Putting it onto the coat rack, she gestures for me to hurry back to my room by pointing down the hallway and at the clock that read "6:47."  
  
I give her a nod and a wider, more genuine smile before hurrying off to my bedroom, opening the door and shutting it behind me.   
  
Slipping off the flats, I once again fell into my bed this time more inclined to fall into the world of sleep.   
  
I tell myself that I needed to rest for whatever I may be forced to deal with today, and I repeat it until just a bit of consciousnesses remains.   
  
"Go to sleep," I mumbled to myself, drawing the pillow closer.  
  
So I do, and for the first time in the a long time I actually slept like a baby. 


	3. Behave

Just as soon as I fell into the world of sleep, I was snatched right out of it by the painted claws of my mother, Abigail Snow.   
  
Although she's only mentioned it to me once, my mother's birth name is Carla Drow. Of course, upon marring my father, there was no need for her maiden name but the reasoning behind her changing her first name is, to this day, unknown to me. Perhaps it was peer pressure that made my mother into what she is today. If that's the case, what does that spell out for me in the future? In pictures that are older than I am, she had beautiful rust colored hair and eye brows to match. She looked so much simpler than she does now, after marring into the family that presided over the Capitol.   
  
She was so much beautiful to me then, than she is now.   
  
After two failed attempts of waking me up by the sound of her  _heavenly_ high pitched, thick accented voice, I finally heard the footsteps of my mother retreat from my bedroom. I let out a silent sigh of relief as I sank further into my bed, preparing myself to fall back asleep.  
  
My ears twitched slightly as the quick footsteps of my mother reentered my bedroom. The stopped at my bedside, as I could feel the slight heat that radiated from her person on my arm that hung on the edge of my bed.   
  


A few moments passed before my mother took a light hold on my hand and dipped it into a bowl of freezing water.  
  
Her satisfied smile is the first thing I see when my eyes shoot open in response to the cool liquid.   
  
"Wake up, wake up, wake up!" She chanted, placing the small cup of water onto my bedside table. "The Chariot Runs and tribute interviews are set to begin in two hours, and you haven't even chosen your outfit for the day yet," she explained, pulling the warm cover from the rest of my body, exposing my warm skin to the cool temperature of my room. "Come, come, Aileta will help you get ready for the day."   
  
I watched with squinted, frustrated eyes as my mother walked out my bedroom door only to replaced with our Avox, Aileta.   
  
I flashed a small smile her way before I finally swung my legs over the side of my bed, willing myself to get up.   
  
I made my way to my restroom, hearing Aileta quietly trail behind me. Before she entered the restroom, I turned on my heel to face her, a smile faintly on my face.   
  
"Aileta, instead of helping me get ready, could you decide what I should wear today? I think I've got everything covered in here." I gestured to the restroom I stood in, showing her that I didn't desire her help with anything in the bathroom.   
  
I couldn't. It's one thing to help around the house, but it's something else to be forced to aid someone with their personal responsibilities - including their personal hygiene. Although it may defeat her purpose, asking her to aid me in those things would make me feel that I've given her the title of a slave.   
  
Aileta gave a short nod and a light smile as if saying thank you. I also nodded lightly before reaching for the silver door knob of my bathroom door, and shutting the door lightly.   
  
My mother may treat Aileta as a slave, but for me, she's the closest thing I have to a friend in this household. 

\----

  
After taking a shower and gracing my face with the light makeup that I wear occasionally, I finally emerged from my restroom allowing the last plums of steam to escape from it's holdings.   
  
My eyes instantly caught onto the simple, sweetheart neckline dress that laid upon my bed, grouped with a small pair of silver heels that Aileta knew I could survive in.   
  
With my towel wrapped around me, I walked over to the dress and gently lift the right side of it, admiring it's simplicity.   
  
I quickly dawned the quaint dress and shoes before I fixed my hair, just allowing my brown curls to fall against my shoulders gently.   
  
As I was admiring the dress that Aileta has so perfectly chosen for me, said Avox opened the door of my room, a light smile gracing her lips.  
  
I walked over to her, and held my hands out to her.  
  
"Thank you Aileta," I expressed, taking hold of her hands gently, "I love it."   
  
Her smile grew as my mother walked into my bedroom, eyeing Aileta before her eyes flashed down at our hands, which were still held within each other.   
  
"Ready, Chriselda?" She asked, eyeing the both of us as Aileta allowed her hands to drop before dismissing herself from my bedroom.   
  
I rose my eye brows to my mother before following Aileta out of my bedroom into the family room.   
  
My mother's footsteps followed behind me as she made her way to the front door, picking her jacket up from the armchair that sat before the unlit fireplace.   
  
"Grab a coat, it will be chilly today." She instructed, pulling the door open before disappearing into the daylight outside.  
  
I followed her and walked over to the front door, taking the jacket that I had worn the night before that Aileta and I have kept a secret between us two. Before exiting through the front door, I looked back at Aileta who's eyes were trained on the ground beneath her.   
  
"Aileta," I called out to her. Her dark, pupiless eyes looked up at me, surprised. "I'm sorry," I offered, not expecting much of a response.  
  
She simply nodded her head and forced a smile onto her face. She waved to me as I finally followed my mother through the front door, once again locking it behind me as I carefully step down the steps that led to our front door.   
  
My mother sat silently in the car that awaited us in the road before our home. I crawled into the contraption and pulled the door shut before I looked over to my mother, who's green eyes were already trained on me.   
  
"How many times do I have to tell you to not treat that thing like it's human?" She scolded, in a hushed tone so our driver wouldn't hear, seeing as he also is an Avox.  
  
I tore my gaze away from her eyes to look out the car window as it pulled away from our walkway, towards the Capitol's stadium.   
  
"Chriselda, answer me."   
  
"I guess until those things tell me themselves that they aren't human," I responded, not making an effort to look at her.   
  
She scoffs lightly at my cheeky remark.  
  
With that marks the silence that will plague us as we made our way to the Capitol's stadium. Not that the silence bothered me, moments like these with my mother are few and far in between - she always seems to have some sort of gossip, or rather "Important News" about some of the important people within the Capitol. 

She knew I never listened to her rants, but I suppose she just enjoys hearing the sound of her own voice.   
  
As we pulled up towards the heavily guarded and lit stadium, my mother taps me on the shoulder, gaining my attention.   
  
"Behave yourself," she warns, her eyes burying themselves into my own.  
  
She maintains this gaze as she unlocks her door and steps out the car. I take a few moments for myself before following her out of the car, making it a point to shut the door a little harder than what's needed.   
  
"Behave yourself." I whisper to myself until the two words bounce around my head endlessly.  
  
And so I do, just like how a good Capitol girl should.  
  


\----

The chariot runs and tribute interviews fly by faster than I had expected. I blame it on the fact that I was too busy focusing on how to behave than criticizing all who found delight in these events.   
  
I was, however, able to admire a few of the tributes outfits which represented the purpose of their district.   
  
District four had the tributes that interested me the most. The male and female tributes were dawned with beautiful blue robes and simple but intricate crowns that glistened as the light hit them. As they passed by the President's balcony, which I had the  _privilege_  of sitting at, their chariot released a wave of water behind them that also glistened beautifully as it landed on to the cement floor beneath it, almost causing district five's chariot to slip off of the way.   
  
I almost failed to hide a chuckle at this silly stunt.  
  
The district that I had missed the announcement of it's tributes the day prior also had their tributes adorned in a costume that had the ability to capture anyone's eye at a simple glance. The female tribute from district thirteen was dawned with a long, flowing black dress that had light, planned yet chaotic splatters of green and purple paint which represented their districts purpose for Nuclear resources. The female tributes dark brown colored hair contrasted perfectly with the dress that shaped her body so closely. Her dark brown eyes were fearful as she looked up at the President's balcony as their chariot passed. The male tribute, however, looked up at the President's balcony with every bit of disgust and hate that could be conveyed in someone's eyes. He wore a simple black suit, with an iridescent effect that reflected the graphite that was cultivated in the thirteenth district. His brown eyes maintained it's glare on all those who stood on the President's balcony for as long as they could before his chariot was brought back to where it emerged from.   
  
His presence made the largest impact on me, causing me to pay particular attention to his and his fellow tribute's interview with the immortal Caesar.   
  
His name was Baron Edenthaw, and the female tribute's name was Lora Edenthaw, proving their relation of being siblings. They were similar in age, Baron being 19 and Lora being 18. Lora was much shyer and gentler than her older brother who took hold of the stage and those who watched, both in person and at home. He had no limits from what flowed from his mouth - all of his opinions and thoughts of the situation that he and his sister are in were voice across all of Panem.   
  
My eyes widened just slightly at the last response that Caesar had received to his customary, "Will you win these Hunger Games?"  
  
"I have no intention of winning the Hunger Games," Baron paused, "however, I won't lose to the Capitol in their games. That's all this is, just a game and entertainment for the Capitol and it's people,"  he added looking out at the audience he sat before, locking gazes with me for just a moment before mentally taking on someone else, "No, winning these games are impossible. You  _never_ win the Hunger Games, even if you are crowned victor."   
  
My great grandmother, Jewels Snow, made no effort to hide her dissatisfaction of how the boy from district thirteen so easily talked down about the government that she and her grandfather had done so much to upheld.   
  
This only increased my fascination of Baron, the boy from district thirteen.   
  
Following the broadcast, Jewels made a Panem wide announcement, thanking all of the tributes for their amazing performances and their willingness to volunteer to be apart of the Hunger Games. With a short,  _genuine_ speech of the importance of the Hunger Games, Jewels wished all a good night and for the tributes to train and eat well. She finally closed out the broadcast with the same phrase that her grandfather used,  
  
"And may the odds be ever in your favor."   
  
I followed in the applause that boomed after, before following my mother and father out of the stadium and onto an elevator that brings us to the dining hall of the President.   
  
Walking into the hall, we were greeted by many of the same people whom we dined with last night.   
  
My mother and father were greeted with light kisses on their cheeks and I just a short nod or wave in my direction.   
  
An hour full of large proportioned food, gossiping, and forced laughter had passed before I was fully addressed to by Kat Starr, Harper Starr's wife.   
  
Her eyes were kind but held something that she did so much to conceal. She wore a vibrant yellow wig that had jewels on the tips of almost every strand, with vibrant pink lips and eyebrows to match.   
  
Just another freak show of the Capitol, I thought to myself as I watched her mouth move, completely missing her question that was directed to me.   
  
I stared at her before she waved her hand in front of me, a small, nervous laugh escaping her lips. "Anyone home?"  
  
"I'm sorry," I replied, snapping out of my daze, "What did you say?"  
  
I could feel the holes that my mother's eyes were making as she gazed at the side of my face.  
  
Kat laughed. "I asked you what you thought about the interviews, they were quite interesting this year, weren't they?" She repeated as she placed a neatly cut piece of red meat into her mouth, chewing it slowly before taking a sip of her bubbling champagne. "Especially the two from district one, so very charming."  
  
"Yes," I replied, "However, the interviews of the tributes from district thirteen were the most captivating for me."  
  
"And why was that, Chriselda?"   
  
My gray eyes snapped over to my great grandmother, who was now bringing her wine glass up to her aged lips. Her green eyes looked over at me from the rim of her glass as the red liquid slowly disappeared from the crystal glass.   
  
I shrugged lightly, stopping myself from completely the action. "Young ladies don't respond to questions with shrugs," my mother once told me.   
  
"I suppose nothing they said was truly captivating, I admit to missing some of the other interviews. I zoned out a little," I replied with a forced smile before looking back down at my plate full of red, bleeding meat.   
  
"How unfortunate," Jewels replied. "I will have to notify Caesar to modify his technique then, I wouldn't want to lose you during the duration of the Hunger Games."   
  
"Oh, don't mind about that. I doubt I'll be paying much attention to them either way."   
  
"She means that she'll be too busy celebrating with her brothers on their promotion, they're coming home to visit in a week or so," My mother fibbed, her foot jabbing my calf beneath the table.  
  
"Yes, my brothers," I agreed, fiddling with my fork in the uncooked meat that sat before me.   
  
A wave of silence fell among us. The only noise being the light clinking of the silverware on the porcelain plates.   
  
It was then that I got a sudden urge to escape. I excused myself from the table and headed for the restrooms.   
  
Standing before a glass sink, I looked back into the reflection of my gray eyes in the mirror and took a few silent deep breaths. "Behave. Behave. Behave," I whisper to myself.  
  
And so I do, enjoying every bit of gossip and showing my anticipation for the upcoming Hunger Games, keeping the almost rebellious words of the boy from district thirteen out of my head. 


End file.
